Page 34 of Just One Moment
Withthe exact same drink as before,Ireturn to their table with my patience hanging on by a thread.
“Therewe go.Thatwasn’t so hard was it?” she says in a patronizing, nasally tone.
“No.Howsilly of me.”I’mgoing to crack a tooth at this rate.
Sheopens her thin lips to make a comment, and from the viperous gleam in her eyes, it’s not going to be a nice one.I’msaved by the bell when the door chimes to let me know another customer has walked in.Ifix my face, making sure my smile is genuine, and turn around to greet them, but asIspin my heels, my eyes widen.
Grahamis standing in the doorway, looking so deliciously handsome in amaroon cardigan, white button-down shirt, and navy slacks.Hisbeard looks freshly trimmed today, giving me a great view of his strong jaw.Sosharp it would be perfect in cutting the rye bread that’s currently filling the bakery with that fresh baked bread smell.
It’sbeen two days sinceImoved in with him, and we’ve hardly seen each other.Hewas called into the city yesterday, and our morning schedules have fallen so that whenI’mready to leave for work, he’s out walkingCurly.Iusually don’t leave the bakery until eight p.m—busy prepping for the following day and placing orders.Wechat a little over dinner, but we’re both so beat after our long days, we call it a night before ten.
There’sa buzz of excitement seeing him now.Iswear the corners of his lips start to pull up when spots me, but then his eyes narrow behind his glasses when he looks over my shoulder.
Ahigh-pitched bark makes me jump.Curlyis yapping away from where he’s attached to the leash inGraham’shand.Hisother holds a bouquet of pale, yellow carnations.
Thetiny dog lunges toward me, yankingGrahamwith him.Atfirst,Ithought he was aiming his dislike at me, but we’ve become quick friends, and it’s clear now the difficult customers behind me are his target.
Idrop to his level to distract him, tickling him under his chin and praising him in a baby voice. “Oh, you good boy.Youhave such a good sense of character, don’t you?Yes, you do.”Straightening,Ilook atGrahamwho is eyeing the two women suspiciously.
“Whatin the world is that?”Iturn toward the owner of the voice.Thequestion came from the redhead one, her eyebrows raised to her hairline as she glances between the dog and his owner with a snooty look.
“Adog,”Grahamresponds dryly, though something is off with his demeanor right now.Hisshoulders are hunched and his eyes flit around the room cautiously.Doeshe know them?
“Clearly.Butwhat are you doing with one?Ididn’t know you liked dogs.Seemsa little too spontaneous for you.”Shelooks at her friend and they laugh at a joke no one else heard.
Uneaserolls off him.Ican see him searching for a response, but they don’t deserve one from him.Theyclearly know each other, andIhave high suspicions they’re the friends ofJenna’s.
Spinningaround,Ilook down at the table. “Allgood here?”Theygo to say something snarky,I’msure of it, butIgive them my back before they can respond and throw my final words over my shoulder. “Perfect.Enjoyyour day.”
Withthat,IgrabGraham’shand, drag him past the register, withCurlyhot on his heels.Ilove the little guy, but a kitchen is no place for a dog.Weset him up with a bowl of water and tie him up just outside the back door.
“Well, they were delightful.Friendsof she-who-shall-not-be-named,Ipresume?”Iask with my hands planted on my hips.
Henods.Hiseyes bounce between me and the tables around us, and he lowers his voice before speaking. “I’veknown them both since high school.AngelaandNina.”
“Goodto knowJennakeeps friends of the same breed.”Thatbreed being little bitches.“Sothose are the people we need to convince that we’re in a relationship.”
HisAdam’sapple bobs before he nods again.Idon’t blame him for looking nervous, because neither of us were prepared to do any convincing so soon.
Carpediem and all that jazz.
“Okay, let’s do this.Woome.”
“Now?” he sputters.
“Sure.What’syour go-to move?Howwould you let people know thatI’myours?”
Witha deep groan, he scrubs a hand across his mouth, andIjust make out his muffled, “WhathaveIgotten myself into?”Heplaces the flowers on the table and pushes them toward me, my heart warming at the gesture.
MaybeI’mputting too much pressure on him and am getting carried away.Thepleading look in his eyes confirms it.Igive him my side profile, busying myself with the batch of cupcakesI’vebeen trying to finish for the last hour.Ionly have half a dozen left to ice andIpick up the piping bag ready to get started. “Sorry, forgetIsaid anything.Wehaven’t even set any boundaries yet.How’syour day been?It’sbeen pretty cra?—”
I’mcut off and gasp when something cold and sticky lands on my cheek.Blinkinga few times,Ilook up to seeGraham’shand hovering between us, fingers stained with royal blue buttercream frosting, and a look that’s equal parts shock and amusement.Hiseyes are wide, but the smirk pulling at his lips says,Whatare you going to do next?
Thisside of him is new and undiscovered.AndIlove it.
“Excuseme.Thatwas made withMadagascanvanilla.Doyou know how expensive that is?”
“I’llget pods of vanilla shipped from theIndianOceanjust for you, honey.”